


Kitten, Honey, Baby

by FalseProphet (Batmanthegroomer)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Lazy handjobs, M/M, cecil is a little impish, sweet pet names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28942203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batmanthegroomer/pseuds/FalseProphet
Summary: Cecil wakes to find that Carlos has worked through the night. A sleepy morning greeting turns into some loving attention in the science lab.(Pretty much just porn for porn's sake.)
Relationships: Carlos/Cecil Palmer
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59





	Kitten, Honey, Baby

Cecil frowned as he walked past the door of Carlos’ science lab and paused. There was Carlos, hunched over his desk in exactly the same position he’d been in when Cecil had gone to bed. The radio host hoped that somewhere in that time Carlos had gotten up, moved around, maybe taken a little nap somewhere, but he knew that was all unlikely. Carlos—like Cecil to an extent—could get so caught up in a current project that nothing else mattered. It was adorable but also worrying.

Cecil yawned loudly to announce himself, stretching as he walked up behind Carlos.

“Good morning,” he purred sleepily, slipping a few fingers into Carlos’ hair.

“Oh, is it? Already?” Carlos said distractedly, hands busy with some scientific equipment Cecil could not name or describe.

“Mmhmm,” Cecil continued, both hands now tangled in Carlos’ hair, “closer to lunch than breakfast now.”

“Oh,” Carlos’ voice was a little more distant now, with Cecil’s hands being in his hair and all. 

“You should really take a break to eat. I can make us something?” Cecil prodded, still playing with Carlos’ perfect, perfect hair.

“Mmm, yeah,” Carlos murmured his hands having stopped moving on his science equipment. His eyes were slipping shut and he was leaning into Cecil’s hands.

“Do you have any requests?” Cecil scratched his nails gently against Carlos’ scalp, rubbing a lock or two between his thumb and forefinger.

“Uhhh, no,” Carlos slurred.

“I can probably just reheat—”

“Cece?” Carlos interrupted, forcing his eyes to open.

“Yes, bunny?”

“You-you need to stop,” Carlos said reluctantly.

“Too much?” Cecil asked, his hands freezing and starting to retreat.

“Yes but—not in a bad way,” Carlos sighed, pushing his glasses up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

Cecil cocked his head to one side slightly at this. The radio host had never been an incredibly sexually active person. Yes he’d had sex before Carlos, a fair amount, but it wasn’t something that was always on his mind. Even now in this miracle of a relationship that he found himself in he recognized that sex was never just a thought or two away. He had considered for a brief time that perhaps he was on the sphere of asexuality but wasn’t sure that was entirely appropriate. He did feel sexual desire—and for Carlos? Boy was that desire strong!—his desires were just fewer and much farther between than what seemed normal or average… which was not to compare them to Carlos, who was the exact opposite. Science and sex were almost interlocked in his mind and thus were always within reach. It didn’t bother Cecil, in fact it was the opposite of annoying.

Cecil smirked slowly, an impish expression. He slowly returned his hands to their ministrations, hearing a soft exhale from Carlos. The radio host leaned forward so that his lips were close to the shell of Carlos’ ear.

“In a… good way?” Cecil cooed.

“Yes,” Carlos said emphatically, “very.”

Cecil made a low hum of acknowledgement and continued to draw his long fingers through Carlos’ hair. He watched as his boyfriend squirmed in the chair, lifting one heel from the floor, turning the other foot onto its side. Cecil’s eyes fell to Carlos’ lap as his pants shifted, tenting quickly from the attention.

“K-kitten,” Carlos whispered, eyes closed.

“I’m going to touch your shoulder,” Cecil breathed against Carlos’ ear, “your chest.” 

“Y-yes,” Carlos managed, rutting against nothing.

Cecil removed one hand from Carlos’ hair and placed it upon the scientist’s shoulder. He squeezed gently.

Cecil did not always need step-by-step consent from Carlos, he was able to tell in most situations how to touch his partner appropriately. When they were in the heat of love-making very little consent needed to be iterated anyway as touching of a sexual nature almost always seemed permissible. However this situation was a little out of the ordinary. Carlos had not gotten any sleep which meant he was likely very keyed into his body now, Cecil had also surprised him and had sprung amorous attention on the other man without warning. Cecil was not in the mood but he knew it would make Carlos feel good and so he needed to make sure all of it made Carlos feel good.

Carlos’ head rolled back harder into Cecil’s hand there as the other slid from a shoulder to Carlo’s chest. Cecil splayed his long fingers against the fleshy covering of his lover’s ribcage, his heart, seeming to somehow touch skin through the fabric of Carlos’ shirt. Cecil felt warmth shared between them.

“Your neck,” the radio host said reverently, pausing before pressing his lips there. 

“Hnng,” Carlos moaned as Cecil’s hand moved until a curious thumb was rubbing against the scientist’s nipple. He thrust his hips against nothing, his own arms limp at his side like they did not exist. 

“Your stomach,” Cecil said in a voice so quiet he knew Carlos could only hear it because it was spoken directly against his ear. He slowly slid his hand away from Carlos’ chest down onto his abdomen, stopping with the tips of his fingers brushing the waistline of Carlos’ pants. He applied the smallest amount of pressure as if holding Carlos into the chair and his partner responded with a keening sob. 

Carlos sucked in a sharp breath as Cecil pulled the hand from his hair and very slowly snaked it across the front of Carlos’ chest. He began panting shallowly as Cecil’s nose brushed against his scalp, warm breath curling through Carlos’ hair. This arm anchored him and Carlos reached up and gripped Cecil’s bicep like a lifeline.

“I’m going to,” Cecil whispered in between soft kisses to Carlos’ ear and neck, “un-button your pants.”

Carlos nodded stiffly. It was very clear to Cecil that Carlos had not said, ‘nod Carlos’ but instead ‘head up Carlos, now head down Carlos’. His lover was coming apart at the seams and it was lovely to behold. Cecil was not often so impish but he did enjoy making his Carlos come, even when he did not feel the urge himself. 

Cecil’s fingers made very quick work of Carlos’ buttons, even though the task was made infinitely harder by Carlos’ continued fruitless thrusting and grinding. Cecil could see a dusting of pubic hair peeking out from the hem of Carlos’ boxers. He let two fingertips slip beyond the elastic band.

“I’m going to touch your—”

“Ceeee-ccccccil,” Carlos cried sharply, getting stuck on the ‘ssss’ sound. He sounded wrecked and Cecil had not even touched his cock yet.

“I wonder,” Cecil mused, moving his fingers slowly downward, “with just my voice, if I could—”

“Y-you can,” Carlos barked in a whine, “you have,” he whimpered, tears in the corners of his eyes from wanting. 

“I have?” Cecil said, earnestly surprised as he stopped for a second.

“Honey no-t now,” Carlos pleaded.

Cecil pressed an apologetic kiss to the shell of Carlos’ ear. He smoothly slid his hand into Carlos’ boxers. Cecil ran his fingers along Carlos’ lengths to the gasping of his lover, and gently tugged it free. 

Every bit of Carlos was perfect in Cecil’s eyes, every bit. Cecil took a second to admire Carlos’s erection as it throbbed quite visibly in his hand. A clear bead of moisture just leaking to the tip. Cecil moved his mouth away from Carlos’ ear and rested his chin atop perfect hair.

Carlos’ fingers dug into Cecil’s bicep as the radio host gripped his shaft and began slow, deliberate strokes. The scientist leaned against the tight hold of Cecil’s arm across his chest, the weight of Cecil’s chin atop his head. He curled his toes inside his shoes and tried not to hump Cecil’s hand like a pubescent teenager.

Cecil continued almost lazy strokes for a few moments, enjoying the pounding of Carlos’ heart against his arm, the panting breaths which seemed to get stuck coming out. He slid his hand up further and let his fingers breach the crown. Cecil began petting the smooth head with his thumb.

“K-kitten,” Carlos whimpered, “honey, Cece,” his voice rose in pitch. “Haah! Nnng,” Carlos stuttered his hips jerking eagerly.

Cecil continued to lavish attention to the head of Carlos’ cock. The skin was smooth and slick, tantalizingly pink and flushed. It was also incredibly mobile and Cecil was almost endlessly fascinated. Sure his own erection throbbed and jerked from time-to-time—especially when he was very, very worked up—but Carlos’ just pulsed, visibly thumping to the galloping of the scientist’s heart.

Carlos made a loud, wanton sob and turned to tuck his head against Cecil’s shoulder. He had given up trying to stop himself from thrusting and was rocking noisily in his work chair. He was starting to feel dizzy, tingling in his toes and a heat in his belly. He felt Cecil’s head move slightly to cradle his own in the crook of Cecil’s throat. 

Cecil increased his speed, alternating between quick pumping and swirling fingertips lightly along Carlos’ weeping head. He could feel the warmth and moisture from Carlos’ breaths against his arm and by the steadily increasing hum of his partner’s moans he knew Carlos was close. 

Carlos began almost clawing at Cecil’s arm, shifting in the chair wildly as if not sure what was best—moving into or out of Cecil’s hand. His heels dug into the floor and his back arched. Every nerve seemed to be firing at once.

“Ah—ahh! Cecil! Cecil!” Singing a hymn of his lover’s name Carlos came, hips bucking off the chair. 

Cecil kept his hand steady around Carlos’s cock for a few moments as the scientist came down. He slowly unwrapped his hand to an oversensitive mewling sound from his partner. Cecil left his arm around Carlos’s upper chest until the grip there lessened and Carlos let his arms fall by his sides. Cecil pressed a chaste kiss to the top of Carlos’s head.

“I’ll make us lunch,” Cecil declared, grabbing a nearby roll of paper towels—the second most important tool for a scientist—and cleaning off his hand. He carefully tapped Carlos’s shoulder with the roll and the shorter man clumsily took it. 

Cecil chuckled and felt hearts blooming in his eyes as Carlos looked up at him. Cecil still with pillow lines across his face and Carlos with bags under his eyes. They were perfect. They were beautiful. 

“Do people get married in Nightvale?” Carlos said breathlessly.

“What a silly question,” Cecil tutted, “of course we do.”

“Let’s do that,” the scientist continued, sounding drunk.

“Let’s do,” Cecil agreed and started for the door. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. 

“Carlos?”

“Yes?”

“When did I talk you off?”


End file.
